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Engagement

Well, this weekend it was Carrie’s turn to come up. (I go down to her town once a month; she comes up to my town once a month.) This time, due to last-minute contingencies, she stayed at my house, but we had accountability set up: the pastoral consultant–Rev. Russ Westbrook–as well as his wife and daughter, stayed with us.

Carrie was in one upstairs bedroom; Alpha Westbrook–the daughter–was in the other upstairs bedroom; Russ and his wife were in the master bedroom.

Recon, Sneaky, and Amir slept on the couch.

Carrie didn’t get in till about 10pm on Friday. We chillaxed (hung out), ate together, did some housecleaning, walked around the neighborhood, walked around the park, read the Scriptures, and chatted with the Westbrooks.

Carrie had a glimpse of what married life might entail; she effectively held down house for a family of 5. Amir helped with the cleaning (and groceries), but Carrie did the cooking.

All in all, an excellent weekend. We accomplished a lot–I even cleaned the garage and mowed the lawn–and we still had plenty of time to relax for the weekend.

The bonus: Carrie cooked enough food, that I practically have enough leftovers to take care of my meals for the week!

Lest you be tempted to think – I’m not going to contradict anything my betrothed has said.

I just want to give my side because I can.

So . . . starting May 13th, 2008 . . .

We exchanged e-mails, I gave him my number, and he called me. That night we talked for two hours. TWO HOURS! I went to bed that night with the thought “What am I getting myself into?! He’s 5 hours away, 42 . . . gack!” After 2 1/2 weeks, red flags started to arise. He expressed concern and told me to back off. I’m a little too feisty for my own good. I don’t have a history of reacting well when a guy turns me down.

But

We kept communicating. September rolls around and – via e-mail – he brings up the reasons he had broke it off a few months prior. My emotion meter starts to break. I finally end the e-mail exchange by saying “Any further response from me is going to be verbal”. He calls me that night. After a half hour or so of conversation, he states “I would like to pursue you again.” The words I thought I would never hear. ACK!!! I decide – in the heat of the moment – that he is going to have to call my pastor. I put myself through unnecessary distress in Round 1 by going at it on my own.

He said that he would call Wednesday. Now, I had no real reason to doubt him, but nothing like this had ever happened to me before. In my heart of hearts I’m thinking “No guy is going to put any real effort into a relationship with me.” But I attempt to play it cool. That Wednesday, I ended up going to a funeral/homegoing service. I had taken the day off of work and took the time to go to Bible Study and give my pastor a heads up. If there was anyone who was going to be cynical and give a thumbs down it will be him.

That evening, after small groups, I asked my pastor how it went. We talked and he gave a “Cautiously optimistic” thumbs up. “Oh, and this time let him pursue you.” This went against the grain of the scant amount of feminist tendencies I have.

About 24 hours later I am FREAKING out. I am crying at my cube and bawling on the drive home. I talked the aforementioned Delta family. Mr. & Mrs. Delta encouraged me to look to the Promised Land. Egypt is being left behind.

Friday comes. Again, I bawl like crazy on the way home. In the mean time, I’m not eating very well and I’m not sleeping. My nerves are shot and my judgment is more than a little cloudy. I come home, drop on my bed, and wake up two hours later. I am at the end up of my emotional rope.

I go to Starbucks – oh, the irony – fire up my laptop and shoot Amir an e-mail stating my inability to see this through and that we just need to forego this whole thing. He – not ever meeting me & wrestling with God over this – sees this as Providence and accepts the fact that I’m calling it off. Speaking of fairy tales, I had not envisioned this actually happening. I was expecting him to calm my fears by speaking of his enduring passion for me and that I had nothing to worry about. Ah, the ignorance on my part. Thank God I can laugh at it now.

We exchange e-mails over the next week or so and decide that we’ll re-evaluate in six months. In the mean time the Delta family rips me a deserved new one. My pastor does not stop them.

There are some things that come up on his end and it seems as if we’re never going to meet. Things clear up and we meet.

March 28, 2009

I am more nervous than I have ever been in recent memory. I can barely contain myself. As I get ready for “the day”, I sit frozen on my couch for about 20 minutes. I eventually head over to Charlie Delta’s and I am helping out, kind of. I get antsy and check the weather along his travel route. I have the smallest Delta in my arms, getting ready to change his diaper.

The phone rings.

Poor Smallest Delta practically gets dropped on the floor as I leap across the room to answer my phone. (True story) Amir is frazzled and I side-swipe him with the news that Mrs. Delta is joining us.

40 minutes later, I pull into Cracker Barrel. Alone. (Charlie Delta is not far behind.) I start peeking through the crowd to find Mr. 5’3″. He approaches me, tips his ball cap, and we chat for a few minutes. Charlie Delta comes in and eventually we sit down.

I am still a bundle of nerves at this point. Too nervous to speak. Too nervous to eat. (I had a grand total of 4 bites of my salad.) After about 2 hours, I begin to calm down.

We make our way to hang out spot #2 and chat. I am enjoying his company at this point and am starting to be at peace with the thought that he really is a decent guy.

When he part the next day, he states his intention to come back.

We were talking several times a week in the next couple of months. I really start to like this guy a lot. I start to think that, perhaps, this is too good to be true.

I was thinking it would all be easy, cotton candy, & bunnies. Different issues arise unexpectedly and I have minor panic attacks at various times. This gives him quite the line for handing me the ring . . .

From my vantage point I couldn’t have created someone better if I wanted to.

Details will follow – Amir is quite busy right now – but one of the “details” is that this relationship is long-distance. I knew this would be difficult. I’ve been through difficult before, but this a type of difficult that I haven’t experienced before. Being engaged is brand new territory for the both of us.

I thought that I would be “O.K.” with the distance. Since it was something I was aware of, I figured that I wouldn’t let the distance “get to me”. I had no idea that not letting the distance get to me would be such an uphill battle. On top of the distance, there is the added complication of plain old sin. I want what I want and I want it now. Not in 5 minutes or 5 days or 5 weeks or 5 months – NOW. I’m having to learn patience is new ways.

. . . but . . .

There is a connection between the physical and emotional, spiritual side to life. The angst that I’m feeling could easily give way to poor nutrition and getting lax in exercise. I’m learning in new ways that in current circumstances filling myself with good, nutritious food is more important than it ever is. Exercise is also good stress/anxiety-relief.

These are far more productive things to give myself over to than to wallow in self-pity and chocolate. The later would actually be easier, but I know that it will only bring immediate gratification. The long-term consequences are too scary for me to actually give myself over to those things.

I’m looking forward to the next chapter in my life. I’m going to screw things up royally from time to time; probably more often than I would like to admit. Fortunately, Amir is an extremely patient and loving man. I’m completely unworthy of his favor. That’s for sure. Yet, he keeps giving it in abundance . . . just like Jesus.

I don’t have a T.V. . When I moved last year, I decided I would not spend money to buy a T.V. . I knew that I would use it as a distraction and to be irresponsible.

One of the aspects of T.V. that it makes it so “user friendly” is that they often come with a remote control. You can sit on your couch, change the channel, turn the volume up or down, and do everything you can to get your senses tickled all while never having to get up from your comfort spot.

I want a remote control for my life. I want to skip through the painful or boring parts. Or at least turn the volume down so I can close my eyes until it’s over. The really great parts, I want to press rewind and play them over again. The truly beautiful parts, I just want to press pause and stare.

One of the downsides of the remote control/T.V. is that you don’t have to feel much of anything.

The regulars on this blog have had their share of pain and despair.

We serve and worship a God who is the God of seasons and healing. Some of us are being brought out of a season of pain and apathy. We are being allowed to enter a season of happiness and healing that we never really believed would happen.

Some of us are still in a season of pain and apathy.

To those who are still there, I pose a question that my pastor poses often to our congregation “If your circumstances never change and all you get at the end of life is Jesus, is that enough for you?”

This question was asked regularly in worship during what was a very painful season in my life. I knew Jesus had to be enough or I was doomed. I can’t ask for Jesus plus anything.

I can’t everput Amir above Jesus.

We are being put together because we are going to be better with one another than we are apart. I have to remind myself a hundred times a day that God is doing something good. There are at least a hundred opportunities a day that I have to let my fears and anxieties rule over me.

I look at my ring and I am reminded that God is in charge. My ring – our ring – does get more beautiful and precious every day. I don’t know how that’s possible. I’ve been wearing it ’round the clock for nearly two weeks.

I get bored very easily. I some times change outfits three or four times a day because I need the change. This ring is not getting old to me.

That’s a miracle. I’m not into jewelry. I can’t tell the difference (by looking) between cubic ziconia and a diamond. I like wearing earings and necklaces, but before getting engaged I was mentally preparing myself to be annoyed with having to wear a ring all the time. I totally thought that wearing a ring would get old very quickly and that I would only continue to wear it out of a sense of obligation and tradition.

Let me tell ya, I love wearing this ring. Amir had to work more than a couple of days for this ring. He took the ring buying process very seriously. If anyone were to try to take it from me, they would get a serious whoopin’.

When Amir & I were talking on the phone last night, I was sitting on my porch. It was dark and the ring was shining brightly in the darkness. I was astonished that I could see it so clearly when it was as dark as it was. There’s a good metaphor for life, for sure.

My fiancè is great.

Maybe we should go to Iowa after all . . . 😉

Tying this all together: There are some unique circumstances of the relationship between Amir & I. Dealing with those circumstances is a continual battle for me. It gets easier every day, but certain days are harder than others. I’d like fast forward through the hard days and hit pause on the easier moments/days.

One week ago today, someone gave me a very beautiful, breath-taking ring.

As the story gets told over and over and over again – “How did he propose? When? Where?” Details, details, details – I’m looking forward to the many, many more stories that will form and be told to our children and grandchildren.

Being engaged is different. Much more different than I expected. It’s weird to know that I am officially done being single. I thought it would be normal, natural, just the next step.

The part of my life that I had (finally) learned to enjoy is now over. I know that I am “single” until I say “I do” and the pastor declares “What God has joined together, let no man tear asunder”. However, no sober person will say that being single, with no potentials on the horizon is the same as being engaged.

It’s weird to say “I’m getting married”. In processing this, I’m continually aware of that I will always cross paths with the still-single-and-not-yet-attached people.

Things that I know I need to NEVER say:

(1) When you’re content, the Lord will give you someone

A boyfriend/fiancè/husband is not a sign/proof/seal on our godliness. If anything, if done well, your weaknesses are revealed much more quickly than you’d like them to be.

(2) The Lord is teaching you to depend on him right now

This is true, but – again – it’s insinuating that those are married must be great men and women of God. I think that one of my biggest frustrations as a single/unattached person is that I could see some very ungodly people have “someone else” and I was being hung out to dry. Before Amir “happened”, I would see street beggars walking hand-in-hand along the streets of the city in which I live and I would be ensued with bitterness because I knew that they weren’t striving for Christ as hard as I was. A complete sin on my part, I’ll admit.

(3) Jesus is all you’ll ever need.

Again, this is true. However, it’s often said in order to glaze over the deep, painful longings of the single woman’s heart. When people are bemoaning their current single-and-unattached status, they need to be heard and known. That’s the greatest human desire. Trying to remedy it with some sort of pithy-Christianese hurts more than it helps.

One of my greatest challenges from here on out is to remain humble. Humility is always a challenge, no matter the circumstances. An incredible guy wants me right now. I’d like to think that I did something to deserve this, but we both know that it is totally a God thing.

I look at my ring – and thanks to my fiancè – I am constantly reminded that it is a symbol of grace, mercy, and promises. I certainly did nothing. I tried to do something and failed miserably. It’s totally God that is making this happen.